


Vice Versa - a Drarry Body Swap AU

by rubesxtra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Swap AU, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter - Freeform, Drarry, Gay, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, M/M, Magic, my gay grandsons, so fucking gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubesxtra/pseuds/rubesxtra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For two and a half years, Harry fawned over the blonde haired Slytherin. For Two and a half years, he blushed whenever he appeared in the hallways or mumbled snide comments in the potions class they shared. After two and a half years, Harry had had enough. Creating a potion to erase his seemingly one-sided feelings for Draco Malfoy, something goes askew, placing both boys in a position neither of them wish to be in. Maybe it won't be so bad, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Dorms Down

     Love really _sucks_.

     The moment you saw a glimpse of them in the hallway, your heart becomes a butterfly with a bass drum, pounding so loud you could hear it in your ears and your stomach was doing backflips. You hear their voice in class and you start to blush. You think about them before you fall asleep.

    Harry James Potter knew this feeling far too well. For two and a half years, the feelings taunted him. Starting as a tiny trickle, but soon progressing into a raging river of affection. Even the mention of the scrawny Slytherin was enough to make the ends of his lips turn up in amusement.

    Two and a half years of small smiles and stomach butterflies led up to one warm spring night in the Gryffindor common room, where the Boy-Who-Lived was getting drunk off his ass while being closely watched by a mildly amused Ron Weasley.

     "I'm sick of it, Ron. I'm siiiiiiiick and tired of it." Harry sat down on the couch, grabbing another beer and popping the cap.

    Ron groaned and sipped his drink. "Harry, I didn't have Fred and George steel the booze so you would drink it in all in one night..."

     "Sssssshaddup, Ronald!" Harry pointed a drunken finger at the ginger, "I will drink however much I wanna drink. I am a brrrrroken man!"

    Ron grabbed the last beer and set it behind him. "Who are you ramblin' on about? I bet the poor girl doesn't even know you fancy her."

    Harry looked up at the ceiling and clicked his tongue, "Wrong!!"

    "So she does know?"

    "Wrong again!" He laughed and took another swing.

     Ron was getting frustrated, "It's one or the other, Harry."

     "It isn't a girl, ya dumbass."

     Ron stopped what he was doing, "Wait. Is it... a... a guy?"

    "DING DING! Get the man a prize!" He groaned. "Bloody little bastard, trotting around with his perfect blonde hair and damn cheekbones... I'm sssssick of it!!"

    Ron was speechless. "You fancy MALFOY?" He yelled, flabbergasted. Harry jumped off the couch and put his finger on Ron's mouth.

    "Shhhhhhhhhhh....... Secret...." He looked around and frowned, "Nnnobody knows..." He waddled back to the couch plopping back down.

      Ron was quiet for a couple seconds before finally breaking the silence, “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter that its Malfoy...” He scoffed, “Out of all the boys in our year, you had to pick the snobbiest, bitchiest, whiniest git out of them all. What the hell do you see in him, anyways?”

   “I don’t even know, Ron. All I know is that I’ve wanted to kiss his stupid face fer like... 2 years...” Harry was slurring badly, “Like, this one time in Potions, he got a bad score on his final, and he was all like “My father will hear about this!” and I got a bloody boner, a _boner_ , Ron; right in the middle of potions. I was in the bathroom for like 20 minutes--” he hiccuped and leaned back on the leather sofa, “He makes me miserable.”

    “I guess I know where you’re coming from...” Ron and Hermione were an unofficial item, but Ron had fancied her for a few months now. Then again, a few months is nothing compared to two years.

    “Yeah, that's why I’m down here in the first place. .” He stood up and held in his hand a small bottle of what looked like silver liquid. “Dragons blood, damn near hard to find, but Hagrid had a bit.”

    He wobbled drunkenly to the fireplace and grabbed a cauldron from behind the wood stack. “Now that I’ve got everything, I can finally get this started.”

    “A potion? I’m not sure thats a good idea to do drunk, Harry...” Ron didn’t look to sure, and walked close behind the dark haired Gryffindor. “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow--”

    “NO!” Shouting, Harry nearly dropped the vial of dragons blood. “No, its gotta be tonight. Its a full moon, Ron. If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to for a whole ‘nother month!” He set the cauldron on the ground like it was a baby, and started to stir.

    “I don’t like this...”

    “You’re acting like ‘Ermione, shut up and lighten up ya big lug.” Harry poured in the silver solution and watched as a puff of purple smoke billowed upwards. “Izzit supposed to be purple?” He mumbled. Ron stood behind him, looking around mumbling to himself.

    “What is this supposed to do, Harry?”

    “What?”

    Ron sat down on the hardwood floor, “What is this going to do?”

    “Its a forget-me-not potion! It erases all feelings for a person... kinda like a love charm, only with opposite effects.” Harry pulled a few blonde hairs out of his robe pocket and winked (more like blinking, he was so intoxicated,) at Ron. “Found the spell in the Potions book I got this year.” He held up a green book with a worn cover. Ron had seen it a couple of times beforehand, but never actually got a good look at it. He took it into his hand and flipped through the pages. There were notes written in the margins and some words were highlighted or crossed out. “Need to keep this stuff handy.” Harry dropped Malfoys hair in his cauldron and stirred for a few minutes, then moved to the window, setting the cauldron on the sill. “Its now or never.”

    “Harry...” Ron nudged his friend, but was shaken off.

    “Not now, Ron!” He snapped. He filled up a cup and held it tightly with both hands.

    “Harry, someones coming.”

    Harry turned around quickly, knocking the cauldron off the sill and causing it to fall out of the window. It hit the ground with a _clang_ and Harry swore loudly. Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the couch right as McGonagall walked down the stairs. The boys stayed behind the couch for a few minutes until her footsteps fell away, and they let out a collective sigh. Harry looked like he was about to cry.

    “Damn it all, Ron! You knocked over my cauldron!” He whimpered.

    “Me?!” Ron snorted, “You’re the one who hit it with your elbow. Besides, ya still got that cup full of it!”

    “But it wasn’t done moonlighting...ing... yet!” he snapped. “I guess it’ll have to do...” Harry looked down at the cup and gulped. Remembering the foul taste of the polyjuice potion he had taken his second year, he was reluctant to drink his concoction.

    “Just drink your forget-me-not, I’m going to bed. Good luck getting up the stairs without me.” Ron rolled his eyes and hit Harry’s back, walking up the stairs to the boys dormitory.

    “Fine. I didn’t need you anyways...” Harry mumbled, looking down at the purplish-grayish filled cup. He took a deep breath and held his nose, quickly downing the entire cupful of it. Expecting it to taste of rotten eggs or cabbage, he was pleasantly surprised to find that it didn’t. In fact, it tasted like buttercream and honey. Harry wasn’t too fond of honey, so it didn’t taste wonderful, but it tasted better than he had hoped. He set the cup down and could feel his eyes start to grow heavy, like someone had just placed a kilogram of lead on each one. He groaned and somehow managed to pull his way up the stairs and to his bed, tripping over his feet almost every step of the way. He sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening, thanking them that he had dressed himself in his pajamas before going downstairs with Ron, and climbed onto his mattress.

   He pulled his knees to his chest, tucking his chin under the covers of his bed. _Please,_ Harry pleaded, _please let this have worked..._

    Not more than 5 minutes later, Harry’s eyes closed and he fell unconscious.

* * *

    Harry woke up early that next morning, feeling slightly off but pleasantly unplagued by the headache he was sure would be waiting for him. It was a Sunday so he didn’t have any classes, so he didn’t hurry to open his eyes or get out of bed. As his body slowly started to wake up, he realized that something didn’t feel right, besides the absence of the hangover from the night before. He reached out for his glasses on his bed stand, but upon opening his eyes, realized that he could see clearly without them. His surroundings weren’t his, and he wasn’t even sleeping in his bed. Instead of the red and gold banners that decorated the walls of his dorm, silver and green ones replaced them. _This isn’t right..._  He thought, jumping out of bed and instinctively going to the boys loo. He pulled the door shut and looked himself in the mirror.

    His darker skin was replaced by pasty white, and his curly brown hair was suddenly a flop of platinum blonde. He was taller than normal, all bones and angles instead of his softer complexion. The face that he had fallen in love with was now reflected back at him, the mouth twisted in confusion and eyes wide.

    The door opened behind him and a tall, dark skinned boy walked in with a toothbrush. “Oh, good morning Draco. you’re up early.”

    Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing, or hearing, but decided to play along. If he didn’t, he would be seen as insane. “Oh, um, couldn’t sleep.” His voice wasn’t his. It was higher than he was used to. It felt weird, yet oddly natural coming from his mouth. “What about you, Neil?” Harry picked out the name easily, and it came to him quickly.

    “I’m always up this early. Are you doing alright? You don’t look so great.”

  _God, for a big guy hes really polite._ “Yeah, just not feeling the greatest...”

     Neil raised an eyebrow sighed, finishing brushing his teeth. “I’ll leave you be, I guess. Talk to you later.” He went out of the room and Harry let out a sigh.

    What the hell was going on? He made a potion to forget Draco, not become him! What had he done that would screw him over this much? He gripped the sink counter, and felt his arm muscles flex. Bloody hell, when did Draco become this fit?

    Against his better judgement, Harry lifted up his -- er --- Dracos night shirt and started into the mirror. Dracos body looked so much different than he imagined, There were a few scars that were planted on his ribcage, but that didn’t stop him from being as lean and muscular as he was. What had Draco done to get those thin lines that were placed on his body? There was one in particular that sat dangerously close to his groin, and Harry once again went against his conscious. He pulled the pajama pants that Draco wore out a few inches and instantly went red in the face, his heart catching in his chest.

     _ **Bloody hell.**_

    It was very apparent that Draco didn’t like to wear underwear, not that Harry minded much. The elastic of his pants snapped back against his skin and he gulped. Was all this just a dream? It had to be, there is no way that he had switched bodies with _Draco Malfoy_. He pinched his arm once, expected to suddenly jolt awake in his own bed, in his own body. He closed his eyes and waited to wake up.

    Nothing happened.

    Harry tried again, this time pinching harder and a couple more times. Again, nothing happened.

    “Alright, so I’m either actually awake, or just in a really deep sleep.” He said quietly, running his fingers through Draco’s slightly-greasy mat of blonde hair. He smelled surprisingly good, like Licorice and cologne. Was this considered Narcissism? Harry didn’t particularly care, this felt like some sort of really weird, surprisingly good dream in which he switched bodies with the boy he’d been falling head over heels for for the past two years. Harry stopped messing with his/Draco’s hair and came to a sudden realization. If he was in Draco’s body... was Draco’s in his?

    Oh, Merlin, this wasn’t going to end well.

    Harry rubbed his eyes and decided to look around. He had only been around here once, in his second year when the had taken the polyjuice potion with Ron, and they pretended to be Crabbe and Goyle to try and get information out of Malfoy about the Chamber of Secrets. He walked down the stairs to the common room, which was located below the school where most of the dungeons were. They had moved a few things, couches to different sides of the room, the fireplace seemed to have moved since the last time he was here, and it was a little bit larger than the Gryffindor common room. Ron would be jealous out of his mind, saying as they had multiple house cups mounted on the wall. Oh, Merlins beard, _Ron_. How was he going to explain this to him? He couldn’t stand Malfoy, how was he going to believe anything that came out of his mouth, even if it was Harry?

    “Draco?” Harry turned on his heels and came face to face with a girl who he instantly recognized as Pansy Parkinson a Slytherin girl in his year.

    “Oh, Hello Pans.” He jumped backwards.

    “Are you alright? I heard someone down here, figured I may as well check it out.” She looked suspicious. “Are you up to something?”

    “Up to something? Oh, no.” He bit the inside of his cheek. His tongue could feel the scars that had built up on the inside of his mouth, and quickly realized that this was definitely a habit for Draco. “It appears I’ve been sleepwalking, must have been the pills father gave me...” Where were these lies coming from?

    “Oh, well...” she looked at a loss for words. “That makes sense. You’re not even dressed yet and not even you would walk around looking like a mess.” She smiled and patted his shoulder. “Go take a shower, I’ll see you at breakfast.” She turned around and trotted back to the girls dorm.

   Harry smirked and looked up towards the boys showers, (Draco’s instincts showed him where they were.) “You know, I think I will.” he mumbled to himself. How bad could this be, Harry wondered, becoming Draco Malfoy for a couple of days?

 

 


	2. Chapter 2: First Aid Kit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***QUICK THING***  
> I'm going to refer to the characters as their state of Mind. For example, Malfoy is referring to Malfoy, even though his mind is in Harry's Body, and vise versa. This also goes for when one is talking about the other. As if, its Malfoys point of view and he said "Harry grabbed my shoulder", even though its Dracos body grabbing Harry's Body, their state of minds are switched so thus the names are as well. IDk if that makes sense sorry ily

   Light flickered through the open window and filled the room as Draco slowly opened his eyes. The moment that Draco felt consciousness seeping back into his body, shooting pains electrified his brain and the space behind his eyes. His stomach felt like it was folding in on itself and he covered his mouth before leaning over his bed and puking into the trash can that sat by his dresser. He tasted the slight bitter taste of alcohol and groaned. He didn’t remember drinking last night… but then again, when does one ever really remember drinking?

    Draco wiped his mouth with his sleeve and blinked a few times, trying to return his vision from it blurry state it was currently in. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, but couldn’t seem to find the cause of his sudden and apparent near-blindness. Even though his vision was seriously impaired, he did see the disgusting amount of sunshine that flooded the entire room. The Slytherin dorm never had sunlight, given that it was at the bottom of the school, where the hands of the sun rarely ever touched. The light reflected off of the banners of the room, highlighting the beds with shades of red and gold that Draco had never seen in such vast amounts. His eyes widened and he sat straight up, but his stomach soon disagreed with him and he ran out of bed, following the trail of beds until he stumbled that he assumed led to the boys loo. He burst in and ran to the nearest toilet he could find, falling to his knees and gripping the sides of the porcelain while his stomach emptied its contents inside. He coughed and wiped his mouth again, his eyes watering from the stench of stomach acid and alcohol. He sat on the ground, leaning against the wall of the stall and tried to focus his eyes on the wall opposite of him. He could see dark marker on the white tile, but just couldn’t figure out what the words spelt out… What was going on? How did he, Draco Malfoy, suddenly end up in the Gryffindor boys dormitory, not only blind but obviously and completely hung over?

    He heard knocking on the door, and glanced in the direction it came from. He couldn’t exactly make out a face, but he saw a tousle of red hair and pale skin. His fists clenched and he stood up. It was so obviously a Weasley, he was surprised he didn’t smell the cross-bred scum from across the room. Not even stomach bile could cover the smell of a blood traitor in the morning.

    “Oi, mate, you don’t look so good. Do you want me to grab you something from the Great Hall? Breakfast is going to be soon, and--” his gesture of kindness was cut short as Draco stood up and grabbed his shirt.

    “I’m not your mate, Weas--.” He spat out the words, but stopped once he noticed his voice was completely different than what he was prepared for. It was lower than his own voice was, and sounded completely foreign, not to mention the raspiness that came from the excessive puking he had just experienced.

    “‘Arry, are you feeling alright? I know you’re hungover as all hell, but you don’t seem like yourself.” The ginger stuttered, pushing Draco off of him. Draco was taken back. What had he just called him?

    “Harry? What the bloody hell are you…” Draco turned around to find himself a few feet shy of face to face with a mirror. Even though his vision was terrible, the could still make out dark skin where his light should be, and wildly curly that seemed to replace his sheet of light blonde he was used to. “This has to be some kind of hex….” he mumbled to himself, voice still warped and catching him off guard. He looked down at his own hands, skin dark and hands calloused where his were smooth and long.

  “I don’t know if I’d call alcohol a hex, Harry, but if you get as drunk as you did last night, I can promise you that vomiting won’t be the worst of your problems. Here, I grabbed your glasses from the dresser. You are almost blind, after all.” He laughed and pushed the glasses onto Draco’s face before he could protest.

    The world snapped into sudden clarity, except for a few scratches here and there. Draco gulped and hesitantly walked to the mirror, closer examining the features he had only seem from an outwards prospective.

Draco’s--er--Harry’s face was structured strongly, not as angular as Draco knew his to be, but softer, his jawline not looking as sharp, nor his nose so protrudent. His green eyes shone through the scratched lenses of the thick rimmed round glasses. Running this hands through the dark, curly-as-fuck hair, he realized it was so much thicker than his platinum blonde. Ron’s voice tugged him out of his stunned silence by throwing a shirt at him.

    “You’ve got vomit all down your shirt, mate, its disgusting. Take a shower, why don’t ya. I’ll see you downstairs in a bit. I’m starved, and I told Fred and George I’d have ‘Ermione help them with their homework. Don’t even know what class its due in, bloody idiots.” He shook his head and walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

    Draco turned back to the mirror and gulped, swallowing the idea of puking once again. How the hell did this happen? The last thing Draco remembered from last night was going to bed, he didn’t even see Potter after Dinner in the Great Hall, other than maybe his arse in the hallway. Not that he looked for Harry’s arse specifically. Just that when he’s walking away from you, its the only identifying feature.

    He looked at the shirt begrudgingly, slowly picking it up and setting it down on the restroom counter. His hands found the bottom of the cotton t-shirt Harry was currently wearing, and slowly brought it over his head, blushing. He was built similar to Draco, maybe not as lean, but nearly just as scrawny. He could find tiny scars that dotted his body like lightning bolts, much like the only that was carved onto his forehead. Speaking of which, Harry pushed back a couple a curls to reveal the infamous scar that he had seen glimpses of under the mass of dark hair. Sometimes he believes that’s the reason Harry started to grow out his hair, was to cover the scar that seemed to define him before he even got a word out. Merlin knows its what caught Draco’s eye the first day on the train.

    He splashed water on his face, swishing some around in his mouth to erase the disgusting taste of vomit that still lingered the corners of his teeth. He dragged a towel down his face, still in complete awe of how something like this was accomplished. If he, Draco, hadn’t cast the spell that changed the mindset of him and Harry Potter, then was it Harry himself? If he was in Harry’s body, was Harry in his? Had anyone noticed the obvious change in disposition the both of them showed? There was no way Potter was going to get through this unscathed; there was going to be hell to pay. He slipped on the white button up shirt, the same as was issued to slytherins, and grabbed the Gryffindors colored tie from the sink. If he was trying to look like Harry, and he was going to, he should probably barely bother with tieing it, seeing as that Harry rarely did. Even when he did attempt to tie the thing like a normal bloke, he still managed to screw it up as his mudblood friend tied it correctly.

    Draco glanced down to realize that Harry was almost naked from the waist down, wearing nothing on his legs but a pair of pants, and he realized that no matter how much he wished to embarrass the Gryffindor, going out without trousers would be sinking to a level of childishness Draco wasn’t familiar with. Walking out of the toilers and back to his bed, he raided the suitcase in search of his uniform pants. It didn’t take long to find the one pair he assumed Harry owned, and slipped them on, leaving the dorm. He didn’t realize until halfway down the stairs that he had completely forgotten shoes, and maybe even a belt would he helpful. He could beat Potter with it when he saw him next.

Another stair journey later, Draco walked out of the commons, spinning around. He wasn’t as familiar with this side of the school then he was his side. How to get to the Great Hall from here… well, he had no idea. He saw a pair of Gryffindor girls swerve around him him, giggling and glancing back at him every once in a while. Although it hurt his pride, and possibly made him like a potential hazard to their health, he closely (maybe too closely) followed them until he arrived at the Great Hall. He saw Pansey enter to his right, along with her boyfriend Blaze. He almost called out to them, but then realized that they wouldn’t react to Harry the same way they would react to Draco, and his thoughts were once against interrupted by a knock by his knees as a house elf tried to squeeze his way through to the kitchen.

    “Watch where you’re going,” He snarled, and the house elf looked frantic.

    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Potter! Try to be more careful again, I will.” It then ran off, disappearing from under the door.

    Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall that lined the entirety of the school. He glanced in the dining hall for his own familiar platinum blonde hair, or perhaps another  defining feature, but with no such luck, found himself.

    He stood in the hallway for another good 5 minutes, swearing silently to himself and thinking about all the things he was going to do to Potter once he finally showed up, and it wasn’t long until Draco saw the familiar angles and blonde haired boy he was so used to seeing in the mirror. Harry/Draco/Harry was walking by himself, looking at the ground, some sort of confidence to his step. The minute he looked up, his eyes connected with his own and he froze.

    Draco straightened up and clenched his hands, grinding his teeth. “POTTER!” He yelled across the hall, gaining more than a few confused looks from onlookers, and Potter shook himself out of his petrification and ran the complete opposite way. Draco followed soon after, pushing people out of his way, and soon a path was created. Potter ran up the staircase and down the next, Draco chasing him all the way up and down. The raced around Hogwarts, Harry being one step too fast for Draco the whole time. They ran up a staircase, and Harry paused, looking back. Draco could see the excitement and the confusion in Harry’s (or was it his own?) eyes. Suddenly, the staircase jolted and started to move. Harry looked like he was going to run down, but knowing that Draco would not only stop him, but probably beat him to a pulp, he was cornered like a small, blonde puppy. The top of the staircase led into the wall, no door or hallway to connect them with. Draco marched up the steps, fire probably burning in Harry's emerald green eyes, and grabbed Harry’s (technically, his) shoulder and slammed him against the wall, Harry wincing at the impact.

“Nice to see you to, Malfoy,” he muttered. Even though the voice seemed different, his tone was exactly the same. Snarky, annoying, cocky, it all seemed to fit with Draco's body, but Harry’s mind.

    “Potter, I swear that if you don’t tell me right now what exactly is going on, I will take your wand and and hex your legs off and then break the wand in half!” Draco was panting, his grip on Potter’s shoulder growing tighter as he grabbed Potter’s wand from his pocket and pressed it against his neck. Their faces were almost touching, and Draco could feel Harry breathing. “Change me back, you half witted git!”

    “See, Draco, I’d love to do that. In fact, This wasn’t what I wanted at all. I don’t know how the hell our bodies got swapped.” He grabbed Malfoys with his own, and tried to pry it off of him. “Now, let me go!”

     “What the hell were you making, then, if not a potion?” Draco was nearly shouting, anger bubbling in his throat. Harry coughed and looked at the ground.

     “Its not important. What IS important is that I want to get back to my body just as bad as you do! So if we’re going to do this, we need to do this together. Do you understand that?” He managed to push Malfoy off of him, and Draco could see something other than anger in his eyes. “Malfoy?”

    Draco shoved the wand back into his pocket and sneared, turning around on his heels. “I may try to work with you, Potter. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and enjoy this while it lasts.” He turned back and smirked as Harry walked down the steps. “You’re going to have a hell of a time raising your reputation after I’m done with you.”

   “Thats a dangerous game, Malfoy.” Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. “But, if you insist.”

   “Isn’t the chosen one MEANT for dangerous games, Potter?”

   “I hope you burn in hell, Malfoy.”

   “I hope to see you there.”

 

 


End file.
